Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Teenager
by StarbuckJayne
Summary: A chance encounter with an old flame reveals Mulder's true feelings


Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Teenager  
  
By Starbuck_Jayne  
Starbuck_Jayne@mulderandscully.co.uk  
www.geocities.com/Starbuck_Jayne  
  
Rating: PG I would have said-don't think   
there's anything too bad in there.  
  
Spoilers: Fire, Je Souhaite, and Requiem I   
suppose.   
  
Keywords: MSR.   
  
Disclaimer: Not mine wish they were but the   
characters of Mulder, Scully, Skinner   
Doggett etc all belong to Mr Carter, 1013   
Productions and Fox.  
  
Archive: Anywhere just please keep my name   
and e-mail attached, but no flames please   
'cause I am way too delicate!  
  
Summary: It takes a chance encounter with   
an old flame to make Mulder realise his true   
feelings for Scully.  
  
Author's Notes: Ok this is set in the gap   
between Je Souhaite and Requiem.   
  
Feedback: Yes please. It keeps me alive :)   
  
Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Teenager  
  
Caitlyn took a drag of her cigarette and   
swung her legs aimlessly. A hand rested on   
her abdomen, swollen with maternity.  
  
"You see," she blew smoke in languid curls,   
"there is no white horse. Prince Charming   
doesn't just ride in and whisk you away like   
in some fairy tale. Honey, you find your   
own love."  
  
Her companion looked unconvinced.  
  
"Cait, you're nineteen and you got knocked   
up. You have no choice but to stay with   
this guy. You think that's love?"  
  
Caitlyn glared at her, more out of annoyance   
that she'd divulged her true age in a bar   
than anything else.  
  
"Fine," she retorted, "but I don't see you   
riding off into the sunset anytime soon."  
  
"Maybe I'm just waiting for the right guy,"   
the young woman smiled and traced a finger   
around the edge of her beer bottle. A   
subtle perfume of cheap scent engulfed the   
area immediately around her, but it didn't   
diminish her natural appeal. Completely   
unaware of the attention she was attracting   
she ran a hand through long red hair,   
eventually flicking blue eyes upwards to   
punctuate her sentence.   
  
"Did you not listen to me at all?" Caitlyn   
waved her cigarette dramatically. "True   
love is pure Hollywood!"  
  
"Cait, just because you don't believe   
something doesn't mean that it isn't real.   
And do you really think it's wise to be   
smoking like that when you're three and a   
half months pregnant?" There was a pause as   
she waved cigarette smoke away with her   
hand. "You wanna hear a story?"  
  
Unsure that she did, Caitlyn pursed her lips   
in a way that displayed both badly applied   
lipstick and nicotine-yellowed teeth.  
  
"Well, you're gonna here it anyway," she   
swallowed the last of her beer before   
leaning forward and beginning in a hushed   
tone. "Ok, it's about 2000, maybe 2001-I   
forget sometimes. Anyway, J.Edgar Hoover   
building, Washington D.C. The whole place   
is practically deserted, except for two   
F.B.I. Agents, probably the most dedicated   
in the business..."  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
The clock said 11.10pm, but Dana Scully felt   
pretty sure that it was already well past   
midnight. As each second passed with a   
laborious tick, she couldn't help but wonder   
what had become of her partner. After   
having left in search of food, he should   
have been back over an hour ago. Scully   
sighed and lifted her coffee cup, studying   
the curdled dregs almost absent mindedly,   
unsure if she could be bothered to make a   
fresh pot. Deciding eventually that it   
wasn't worth the hassle, she returned to   
typing her latest report. Harvard had not   
been best pleased about the disappearing   
body trick, and there was a lot of paperwork   
to be taken care of. The fact that she'd   
spent the night before watching "Caddyshack"   
hadn't exactly helped matters either.   
Still, Mulder had been warned-tomorrow night   
it was "Steel Magnolias" or nothing. She   
smiled on remembering the look on his face:  
  
"You really know how to hold a grudge, don't   
you, Scully?" Still, he wasn't going to   
refuse the chance of a night in with Scully,   
not to mention a meal that wasn't salvaged   
half-burned, half-still frozen from the   
microwave.   
  
Scully stretched and took off her glasses.   
If Mulder wasn't going to show up then she   
saw no reason why she had to keep on   
working. Besides, she'd only be asleep for   
a few minutes.  
  
She couldn't quite place what had woken her.   
It may have been the soft click of the   
central heating going off, or the distant   
chiming of midnight on the clock outside.   
Although, the most probable cause was the   
clatter of wood against metal, as Mulder   
thrust open the door and consequently struck   
the filing cabinet.  
  
"Mulder! Where have you been?"  
  
"Scully! You have pen on your face!"  
  
On instinct Scully pressed a hand to her   
cheek, causing her partner to grin in a way   
that informed her of her gullibility.   
  
"So..." She eyed him up and down.   
Surprisingly neatly dressed considering it   
was midnight and he'd been missing some two   
and a half hours. No food though.  
  
"Are you going to tell me where you've been   
or can I go home and try again in the   
morning?" She checked her watch and made a   
move to switch off her laptop.  
  
"Wait!" Mulder grinned, seductively   
removing a key from his pocket.  
  
"Oh what is that?" Scully was not in the   
mood for guessing games, and this was   
starting to look suspiciously like the   
beginning of one of her partner's "brand new   
x-file" speeches.   
  
"This," he spun the key on his finger for   
effect, "is the key to a haunted house."  
  
"Mulder," Scully rubbed her temples, "I know   
I've said this many times throughout our   
partnership, but right now I mean it more   
than ever before: please tell me you're   
kidding."  
  
"Come on now, Scully, you know that cliches   
are the very basis of the X-Files!"  
  
Now that she knew he was leading her on the   
sense of relief that she didn't have to   
spend another night playing mind-games with   
a couple of supposed ghosts far outweighed   
her curiosity. Removing her jacket from the   
stand she headed for the door.  
  
"Mulder, you can either come with me and   
tell me on the way out, or you can stay here   
and tell me in the morning."  
  
"Where's your sense of fun, Scully?" Was   
the basic dialogue that drifted through the   
Hoover building's basement passages as the   
two agents made their way back towards   
ground level.  
  
XXXXXXX   
  
Caitlyn's attention had wandered to a young   
bartender who was struggling through the   
hoards of people in an attempt to collect   
glasses.  
  
"Cait!"   
  
"Yeah, Katie, is this story actually going   
anywhere, Hun?"  
  
"Don't call me that. Yes, but you're going   
to have to listen rather than eying up   
everything that comes towards you wearing   
pants!"  
  
"Ok, fine, I'm listening."   
  
"Right, well the next day Dana Scully   
arrived at work, totally unsure what to   
expect. Her partner had lost her interest   
after firing a series of cryptic clues about   
their next case at her. In the end she'd   
just given up and gone home. Still, it   
wasn't as if Mulder handing her a plane   
ticket at 6am in the morning then whisking   
her off to the airport wasn't unusual. She   
felt pretty sure that she'd have been   
subjected to worse..."  
  
XXXXXX  
  
"We're going where?" Scully held the plane   
ticket in the air, studying it from a   
distance as if that might change the   
destination.  
  
"England."  
  
"Why?"   
  
"There was an American business man, went   
missing over there in suspicious   
circumstances. There's been a team of   
agents out there for a few weeks now but   
they weren't finding anything so I managed   
to convince Skinner to let us have a look."  
  
"Mulder, are you sure it's wise to be flying   
to England, apparently totally   
unnecessarily, to investigate a case that's   
already being investigated by the bureau and   
has no paranormal connections at all, as far   
as I can see, just a few weeks before we're   
due to be audited?"  
  
Mulder grinned at her cynicism.   
  
"Scully, I promise we can rent "Steel   
Magnolias" whilst we're in London," he   
slipped a hand round her shoulders and   
guided her towards the door.  
  
xxxxxxx  
  
  
Seven hours later they touched down in   
London. Night had fallen and the last of   
the summer warmth was faint, but ardent in   
its attempt to linger in the air. However,   
it was fighting a losing battle, and as she   
stepped from the airplane Scully gave a   
slight shiver at the chill. The city's   
lights shone brightly, reflecting off the   
River Thames and making them generally quite   
dazzling to the beholder. It was getting   
late and the two agents were already too   
jet-lagged to care about finding their   
hotel, each one secretly hoping that the   
other would take care of it. Tired and   
hungry, they made their way dazedly towards   
a taxi and climbed inside, mumbling vague   
details of their accommodation before   
slipping into a gentle slumber.  
  
By 1am the adverse effects of over-seas   
travel had taken a different turn, and both   
agents had ended up sitting on Mulder's bed,   
discussing the case.  
  
"So I suggest that, after breakfast, we head   
towards his offices over here...do you have   
the name in your notes?"  
  
Scully flipped over a few pages of her   
comments, surprisingly well written   
considering she had been flying at 30,000   
feet through turbulence for most of the   
journey.   
  
"Erm...ok it's a "Thames Road Buildings"   
about 2 or 3 miles from here I would guess."  
  
Mulder nodded approvingly before deciding to   
abandon the case and change the subject.  
  
"You wanna watch a movie?"  
  
"One of your movies? No." The two   
exchanged a glance and Scully smiled good-  
naturedly.   
  
"Ok...you wanna spend vast amounts of money   
on room service and charge it to Skinner?"  
  
"Mulder..." Since meeting Mulder, Scully had   
learned that playing by the rules never got   
anybody anywhere, but at the back of her   
mind was still the thought of the upcoming   
audit, and she wasn't sure she could   
sacrifice her job for the sake of a bottle   
of champagne and a few overly-priced   
delicacies.  
  
"So..." Mulder threw himself defeatedly down   
on the bed, arms behind his head and leaving   
Scully on the edge by his feet. "You could   
tell me about your childhood."  
  
"Mulder, you left behind a career in   
psychology, remember?"  
  
"So maybe I should put my suppressed   
knowledge to good use."  
  
It was a familiar practice these days for   
the duo to spend time on idle chatter-  
sometimes there was little else to do.   
  
"Scully, do you mind if I ask you a   
question?"  
  
"Now, how did you answer this same question,   
Mulder?" Scully grinned and slapped his   
feet playfully."  
  
"How long have you been a red-head?"  
  
"Since University. Trust me, blondes don't   
necessarily have more fun. Nor do brunettes   
for that matter."  
  
"I disagree," Mulder said simply before   
moving on to his next statement, "You know   
Scully, some people associate red hair with   
passion".  
  
"Yeah? And some people compare a sneeze to   
an orgasm."  
  
Mulder was only momentarily stunned by his   
partner's semi-explicit metaphor.  
  
"You ok, Scully?"  
  
"Mulder, I'm fine..." she said, twisting a   
corner of the quilt between her fingers,   
"honestly."  
  
  
XXXXXX  
  
"So what's going on now then?" Caitlyn   
demanded impatiently-she wasn't a fan of   
slow moving stories. "Is he trying to get   
her into bed? Are they already sleeping   
together? Is she refusing to sleep with   
him?"  
  
"Why do you always assume everything is   
about sex?" Katie sighed heavily and   
stirred her drink with a straw. "Now do you   
want me to go on or not?"  
  
Caitlyn checked her watch before replying   
that she did want to hear the end of the   
story, even if it meant sitting still for   
the next ten minutes.  
  
XXXXXX  
  
The morning mists were rising, leaving   
behind a bustling city that basked in the   
early-summer sun. Mulder coaxed Scully   
awake, and she eventually stirred from her   
position at the foot of the bed. Somehow   
during the night she had ended up under the   
covers so that the partners had slept one at   
each end of the bed.  
  
"C'mon, Scully," Mulder was saying, "we paid   
for breakfast so we may as well eat it."  
  
Scully refused, saying she was too tired to   
be hungry and advising him to go on without   
her.  
  
"I'll meet you in the lobby in an hour," she   
said, already looking as if she might fall   
back to sleep.  
  
The plan was to be at the businessman's UK   
offices for 10pm where they would get some more   
basic background information. Then, whilst   
Scully traced the man's last movements,   
Mulder was to head over to the scene of his   
last sighting and see what he could learn   
from the other agents already involved.  
  
By 2pm he was in a hotel room in a very   
exclusive part of the city. None of the   
staff looked at all pleased to be welcoming   
yet another FBI agent, and the forced   
politeness was worse than if they had been   
downright rude to him. Mulder surveyed the   
scene. A couple of FBI agents were in one   
corner, comparing notes and sipping coffee.   
Then, to the right of him was a group of   
police. He couldn't see the face of the   
person who was obviously in charge, giving   
out orders as far as he could tell, but   
something about the figure, the voice,   
caused his mind to conjure up a picture of   
Phoebe Green. He shook the image away with   
a shudder, but then, as the woman turned,   
his fears were verified.  
  
He had no idea of how she had persuaded him,   
but at the end of the day's work he found   
himself sitting in a little cafe around the   
corner, twisting the edge of his napkin as   
Phoebe sat and drank coffee.   
  
"Fox..."  
  
He cringed at the use of his first name, but   
knew if he said anything she would only bear   
it in mind for the purposes of future   
irritation.  
  
"What a surprise it is to see you in these   
parts," she laughed. "Maybe it's a sign."   
Mischievous eyes looked out from under her   
hair. Mulder remained silent.  
  
"Are you just going to sit there and say   
nothing?" She asked.  
  
"Probably a good idea," he retorted, as he   
watched her strike up a match, under the   
pretence of lighting the little candle on   
the table. He knew it was meant as the   
tiniest little dig at him-considering his   
extreme dislike of fire.   
  
"There," she announced as she shook out the   
match, "very romantic."  
  
Mulder groaned inwardly. So this was her   
little game.  
  
"So tell me, Fox. How is that partner of   
yours...Agent Sally, was it?"  
  
"You know full well it was Agent Scully,   
Phoebe, and she's fine."  
  
"So she's over here too?" Phoebe stirred   
her coffee dreamily before blowing on it,   
sending steam cascading towards Mulder. She   
didn't wait for his response to the   
question, knowing the answer even before she   
asked. "Well, I'll have to act fast," she   
laughed enticingly. Mulder decided he'd had   
enough. Anything he had ever felt for   
Phoebe Green was gone even before he left   
Oxford all those years before. He wasn't   
about to get involved in her little mind   
games.  
  
As he rose to leave she rose with him,   
suddenly embracing him and forcing her lips   
on to his. He pushed her away.  
  
"No!" He wiped a hand across his mouth,   
"no." He repeated quietly.  
  
"Why Fox, surely you wouldn't turn down a   
simple kiss from an old friend?" She   
watched him carefully, surveying his   
expression.   
  
"Phoebe anything we had is long dead. You   
can't just decide to come back into my life   
and keep trying to pick up where we left off   
decades ago. People change Phoebe," he was   
barely controlling his temper, infuriated by   
the way she assumed she could just kiss him   
and he would respond and decide that he was   
still in love with her after all.  
  
"Oh come on, Fox. I find it highly unlikely   
that there is anyone else who would be   
betrayed by this. You obviously aren't with   
anyone special, or you wouldn't have come   
over here on a wild goose chase. Alone."   
She stressed the last word maliciously.   
  
"I'm not alone, Phoebe." He couldn't help   
it. The words were spoken before he could   
prevent them. She looked stunned.  
  
"Don't tell me you're involved with Agent   
Scully," she laughed dryly. "Why, that sort   
of behaviour could get you thrown out of the   
bureau." And it would as well, should she   
have anything to do with it.  
  
"That's not what I said, Phoebe." Mulder   
spoke quietly, but with an edge to his voice   
that warned her to leave it whilst she still   
could.  
  
"On the contrary, Agent Mulder. I believe   
that's exactly what you said."  
  
"Phoebe! I am not involved with Agent   
Scully!" People in the cafe had turned   
around to see what the fuss was about, but   
Mulder didn't care. Other people's opinions   
of him had never really been an issue in his   
mind. "I love her."  
  
xxxxxxx  
  
By 11pm Scully was forced to surrender to   
the pain in her head, and set off in search   
of relief.  
  
"Mulder?" She knocked and entered without   
waiting to be asked. Her partner was lying   
on his bed, presumably deep in thought   
rather than asleep. "Mulder, do you have   
any painkillers on you?"  
  
"What? Oh...yeah. Hang on," he fumbled   
absent-mindedly in a wash bag on his bedside   
table, then handed Scully a packet. She   
glanced down at it.  
  
"You ok, Mulder?"  
  
"Yeah. Fine." He answered a little too   
sharply, so attempted to correct himself.   
"Why?"  
  
"Oh, just that this is a packet of, what   
appear to be Spanish, breath mints." She   
turned the box over in her hands, "that   
expired in 1988." She handed it back to   
him, almost automatically placing the back   
of her hand against his forehead.  
  
"What's that for?"  
  
"There's obviously something wrong, Mulder.   
Now you don't have a fever so..."  
  
"Scully, I told you I'm fine," he almost   
snapped at her.  
  
"Well, you know where I am," she turned as   
if to leave, but he caught her hand.  
  
"Scully?"   
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I ran into Phoebe today."  
  
Scully was momentarily taken aback, but   
quickly regained her composure.  
  
"Green? Where?"  
  
"In Robert Wells' hotel room. She was, I   
don't know, the leader of some investigation   
by Scotland Yard. Loving every minute of   
it-lording it over us mere FBI agents." He   
laughed bitterly. Scully had no difficulty   
in believing the last part of his story-her   
encounter with Detective Green some seven   
years ago had shown her to be vindictive to   
say the least. This was a woman who was not   
afraid to take everything she had against   
her ex-lover and use it to try and destroy   
him.  
  
"Mulder, you know we don't even have to be   
here," Scully sat down beside her partner on   
the bed, causing him to move just slightly   
away from her.  
  
"I'm not letting her win this one, Scully."  
  
"Mulder, by saying that you're stepping   
right into her little game. Don't you see   
this is what she wants?"  
  
"You don't understand, Scully. You don't   
know her like I do," he sighed heavily.  
  
"I understand, Mulder, that you don't have   
to be manipulated like this." She squeezed   
his hand briefly, but he didn't respond to   
her touch.  
  
"She," he turned to face her, "she tried to   
kiss me."  
  
"It doesn't surprise me," Scully laughed   
softly and patted her partner's hand again.  
  
"Ok, well I'm going to try and sleep off   
this headache," she smiled. "And Mulder, if   
you want then tomorrow I'll come and help   
you kick Phoebe's ass." She turned around,   
but Mulder's hand on hers pulled her back.   
He was sitting up now, and in one swift   
movement he pulled her to him, studying her   
face for a few seconds before drawing her   
into a passionate kiss.  
  
XXXXXXX  
  
"Soon after that, my dad went missing for   
nearly a whole year," Katie concluded, "He   
missed out on nearly all of my mom's   
pregnancy."  
  
"Wait a minute," Caitlyn gestured wildly   
with her cigarette, "so you're telling me   
that the only reason he married her and   
they're still together is because he got her   
pregnant? Hun, that is exactly the   
same story as mine, only it's set in England   
like, 20 years ago." She stubbed out her   
cigarette triumphantly. "See! True love   
doesn't exist at all. The only reason   
people get married is because they get   
knocked up."  
  
Katie shook her head knowingly and laughed,   
Caitlyn was hearing what she wanted to hear   
as per usual. Still, in her own mind and   
those of several other secret listeners in   
the bar that night, true love was more than   
a one night stand and an unwanted pregnancy.   
  
  
X~The End~X 


End file.
